Stormy Shoals: A Poetry Collection

Hindsight

You are gone

so I wander the streets alone,

wishing I still had a shoulder to cry upon,

a girl to sit next to me upon my throne. 

The wind rattles through the thin walls,

chilling me back to being sober

and making me wish it was still fall,

when we fell in love in October.

I wear my heart on my sleeve,

brandish feelings like knives

(because they cut just as deep),

even around your wives.

I am still by myself,

waiting for someone new,

sitting on the shelf,

company long overdue.

All hope is buried under lies,

the night consuming the daylight,

at my long-awaited demise,

but I understand it all in hindsight.